Private An Inquisitive Espionage

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

One could not just get away with killing the Dark Mistress. Darth Ophidia, she who single-handedly brought upon a great change for the sith only to be struck down by her own apprentices. Betrayal. The Tsis'Raki defected from their main faction, to mourn, recuperate and ready themselves to avenge her - to carry out the plan to ressurect her. They had been watching the two traitors closely, planting their own into the ranks of the Tsis'Kaar and the inquisitors. They played the long game. And Hykátiis only saw fit that she herself went up close with the inquisitor.

The Tsis'Raki had tracked and followed him to the dry city of Socorro and into an auction in the underground blackmarkets. Hykátiis was not in her usual armor, instead a cloaked outfit that would be more fitting for the mission at hand. She was also unmasked. Sitting through the auction as various artifacts were presented. Strosius seemed to be interested in a few in particular, Hykatiis had even put in a bid or three to play along. As Darth Strosius left, she followed him. "You there. " She called out as she approached. "I'm afraid, my master is adamant that I return to him what you now have in your hands. I would not be forgiven if I do not."

"I cannot fight it off you, that is certain. Perhaps... an exchange?" She certainly could, but it was not the role she was playing today.

 

[Darth Strosius]

The Lord Inquisitor idly inspected the artifact that he had won during the auction, his thumb running over the etched and adorned surface of the orb that sat atop the ornate stand. There were quite a few relics that had gone up for sale this day that he had been interested in but he had only managed to walk away with the one. For the moment. While he was sorely tempted to march up to the other buyers and wrench the artifacts of the Sith from their greedy hands, he knew better.

For he knew they potentially possessed collections of even more artifacts. Collections that they could only lead him to with a tracker that he just so happened to plant on the handful of them that had managed to outbid him for the relics when they shook hands. That was where his thoughts lay at the moment in truth, his mind wandering about what he could pry from their cold dead hands once they unintentionally led him right to their collections. Just like so many before and just like how so many after would. Never deny a Sith their rightful artifacts.

His stride faltered and his thoughts were interrupted as someone called out and approached him, disturbing his musings and making him click his tongue in disappointment. The masked gaze of Darth Strosius snapped over to the woman as she approached, reluctantly stopping in his own tracks, and narrowed slightly at her words. "An exchange you say?"

He spared a moment to glance the woman up and down. Despite her being seemingly just another face in the crowd, and one that had almost outbid him for this artifact in his hands, there was something oddly familiar about her. A flicker in the back of his mind that hinted at some sort of foreign and unknown familiarity. How strange. "Do tell what you could have to offer then, I haven't all day and I'm not very open to discussion at the moment." He could humor her for a few minutes or so he supposed, even if just to tell her that he wouldn't be parting with the relic at the end of it.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki

 

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

At the very least Strosius was more than open to hear what she had to offer. The sith seemed not to intend to waste more time on her than necessary, but the well-trained spy had much skill at keeping someone's attention if there was a need to have.

"Of course, I expected nothing less, Sir. To be able to place such exponential bids - you wouldn't have much time to spare on a stranger like myself." She spoke, playing the characteristic humility of someone lower ranking.

Hykatiis had no use for the artifact he now possessed. She was not much of a collector, but the Tsis'Raki had their vast assets, benefited off the formidable Dark Lady herself. After the fall of their mistress, the Tsis'Raki priestesses had raided and cleared out many libraries and mueseums that the Dark Lady safe guarded or frequented. They would not allow anyone unworthy to get their hands on them, that would likely end up in auctions like these.

From the bag on her side, she presented an object swaddled in a piece of cloth, carefully unwrapping it to reveal the ancient scroll within. Not of parchment or paper but of dark cortosis metal with runes inscribed in red. It was a scroll obtained from the obelisk libraries in Krayiss - a place she knew he visited recently... all that trouble only to find the library almost barren.

"Might this interest you? Perhaps there could be something more I might add to seal the deal. My master could potentially make some additional arrangements." She stepped closer, her tone and phrasing almost suggestive. The spy knew of his nature... and his unique requirements of the sentient sustenance.

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Darth Strosius rolled his eyes at the groveling remark, he knew how disingenuous and forced they could be more than most after all. Flattery wasn't going to loosen his grip on the artifact anytime soon but thankfully it seemed as though she was somewhat aware of that as she continued. In addition instead of mere words or even credits she procured an object from her bag and displayed it, unveiling some sort of cortosis scroll that captured his attention the moment that the cloth was removed.

He immediately began debating how easy it would be to lure the woman to some unseen alcove or alley and leave her dead while he acquired two artifacts this day but the sheer volume of people still milling about dissuaded particular that idea. Unfortunately. He could only imagine what secrets and knowledge was worth recording on a metal such as cortosis and the mere idea of it made his breathing quicken in anticipation at getting his hands of the scroll.

Again her words pulled him from his thoughts, and reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the scroll, to acknowledge her proposition. One that made him take a step back where she had taken one forward. "...I see...perhaps this discussion is one worth my time after all." What 'master' did she have that would be willing to part with such a scroll? And what was the artifact he already possessed capable of if it could be traded for such? More importantly however, just who was this woman that thought she could barter with a Sith of all things?

"You and your master must frequent these auctions in order to own such a scroll." It was an idle comment but for trained in the subtle arts it was an obvious probing one, and one that would naturally delay any committal answer to her proposal. Darth Strosius wanted to know why this woman seemed familiar and if she wound up at a lot of these auctions that would be the answer, but he also wondered just who she served. Mainly to see what else they might have that he wanted.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki

 

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

The inquisitor maintaining that space, a small act of caution taken, she expected nothing less. The scroll had interest him, it was one the Tsis'Raki had already analysed, the sacred text that was a grimoire of ancient sorcery. Hykatiis ensured it was view for only a few seconds, enough time of him to glance down, but would be barely able to register the text as she wrapped it back up in the cloth and tucked it into her bag.

There was a cordial smile at his enquiry before she replied, "The Manuscript of the Phyekauri was not acquired through a black market sale." It was stated simply, not giving him more or less information than he sought for, only the name of the artefact she possessed. An artefact that would have been in the records of the library it was kept within before the priestesses seized them.

"Your force signature... you are bloodborn are you not? My master is much similar in that aspect. Rare they are." A statement that gave another perspective to what her master really was - and who she was to them. Much of it only a fabricated story, she was no thrall. "Would it be adequate enough if I may offer my sustenance in addition, for that in exchange?" Her head nodded down to the sphere the sith held in hand.

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

The scroll had disappeared as quickly as it had been revealed, something he noted with a displeased click of his tongue but something that admittedly wasn't surprising. Clearly this woman must have played the game of diplomacy before given the classic bait and switch technique. An arena that he himself, while admittedly not his preferred one, could play in himself just as well. Especially if the prize at the end was that magnificent scroll.

Darth Strosius cocked his head to the side slightly as she revealed the name of the scroll, one that did prick the back of his mind with some level of familiarity. Not unlike the woman herself, albeit this was far more concrete. Perhaps it was a record referenced in some text or archive that he had read? He'd have to investigate later once this little affair was done with to make certain why it sounded somewhat familiar. The much more important question however was that if the scroll wasn't acquired via a market, then where had it come from? Perhaps her master was a Sith of some sort?

Her remark caught him by surprise and very off-guard, the masked man actually recoiled as though it was some obscene accusation. And as seemed typical from the woman's statements thus far. "My thirst is satiated for now, and even if it weren't I am not so easily tempted by a few drops of blood." He inclined his head slightly as he scoffed, as though offended by the offer. "However I would be willing to potentially trade for this artifact I suppose, although I must admit I am terribly curious as to why your master is so insistent on giving up that manuscript for this...trinket." Again he parried her offer with one of his own, idly extending a hand as if it would somehow entice an honest answer.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki

 

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

It was all part of her plan gradually coming together. The priestess did not take no for an answer, not when it was crucial to the plan she had at hand. The inquisitor would ask another question which Hykatiis would not give much of an answer to. "My master values confidentiality and divulges little. I am the envoy. If the Sphere of Kythos is what they want, I will get it for them." Frankly, she had little idea of what the artefact he had could do, but an improvisation worked wonders.

Hykatiis hummed in feigned intrigue. "I have not encountered many bloodborn to turn down a drink from willing prey. And especially not my blood." A smirk played on her lips. The priestess extended her hand, a sharp corner of her nail digging into the flesh of her index finger, peircing flesh for the crimson to surface. "A sample?" The smell wafted in the air, enticing and so tempting. She was no sangir, the ancient curse she put on herself was not detrimental to her own body, but of those that fed off the sustenance.

"We'd have to go somewhere... secluded if you decide you want more." Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

A deflection that could have been either genuine or false, and yet he still couldn't discern which it was. This woman was hard to read and the odd cloud in the back of his mind only made his attempts to properly measure her words and determine her purpose all the more difficult. A fact which annoyed and frustrated him just as much as it intrigued him. "I see. I suppose the secrets of the Sith are not meant to be so easily given away."

He scoffed at her little attempt at goading him and opened his mouth to dismiss any further notions of drinking from her, but the second the scent of her blood hit his senses he paused. It slid through the filters of his mask with no issue and almost instantly filled him with an undeniable reminder of the eternal thirst that he worked so hard to keep at bay. The Lord Inquisitor's gaze would fix itself to her finger, the craving for blood being the only thought that he could identify at the moment.

Not even in the days when he had starved himself of blood to test his own resolve had he felt such hunger, not even when he was surrounded by his recently slain foes did he thirst like this. He needed to drink and now. "...Yes. Secluded." The temptation to just throw the artifact to the ground and attempt to grab hold of the woman's bleeding finger, regardless of whether it was still part of her hand at the time or not, was strong but his control was ever so slightly stronger. He could wait a few more moments if it meant savoring the scent and the future flavor longer.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki

 

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

A pause was all it took to let her know that the blood curse worked, drawing the attention of the Sangnir - perhaps too well, now putting her in a position arguably precarious if it weren't for her skill in combat. The silence broke when he accepted her offer without protest. The priestess' grand plan was all coming together, gradually.

Hykatiis looked around, here in the open street would draw too much attention and potentially stir unwanted chaos even if she knew some of her comrades had eyes on them as a precaution. The crimson was rubbed off between her fingers as she turned towards an alleyway. "Alright, this way." She beckoned.

Down the alleyway they went, dark and barren of any sentient being aside from the rats that scurried about. It may have been rather odd that the woman did not bring the subject of the artifacts, knowing that there was likely only one thing on the sangnir's mind: To feed.

"It is courtesy, that I at least get your name before you feed on my blood. " She said with a smile, although the spy already knew much of the sith's credentials and more. One thing she had not yet discovered was how he looked like maskless, the sith seeming to be in his armour every hour of the week. She would give him a pseudonym, "Lady Iphelia." A name so similar to the dark lady, purposefully so.

Hykatiis unbuckled her left glove, pulling it off her hand. An intricate serpentine tattoo in a strange dark iridescent ink wrapped around her wrist up to her elbow, the head of the snake picture with dripping venom. The woman extended her wrist to him. "No more than three seconds. My supply is not infinite."

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Without hesitation Darth Strosius followed after the mysterious woman into the alleyway, any instinct that might have prevented him from doing so being drowned out by an overwhelming hunger and thirst. In the back of his mind he knew how terrible of an idea this was, how obvious of a trap this woman was laying, and yet despite it all he carried himself forward. If things went wrong then he'd just get to drain her dry after he handled whatever situation came his way.

Simple as that.

His head cocked to the side at her words, much like a bird of prey examining its latest meal with scrutiny and inspection. "Does it matter?" The masked man's tone dripped with hunger and left little room for debate. Any semblance of his more formal and coherent speech seemed to fade more with each moment given that his next remark was muttered out through a frustrated noise that could best be described as a growl. "Strosius. Darth Strosius."

Every muscle in his body tensed as he watched her reveal her hand, paying no mind to the oddly familiar tattoo that wound around her skin and instead focusing right on where he knew a vein would be. In a frantic movement both of his hands moved up to claw at his mask, one of which found purchase with a small switch just beneath the helmet's right side.

The bottom half, or the bit around his mouth at the very least, would fall to the ground without a care as Darth Strosius lunged forward to sink his fangs into her wrist. One of his hands lashed out and gripped her elbow tightly in a manner that almost implied that if she were to struggle then she would lose said limb in the process. As long as he got his fill it hardly mattered to him either way.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki

 

[Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki]

The priestess did not flinch as the sangir lunged with his fangs unsheathed, the sharp points quickly piercing into the skin of her wrist. The metallic tang of the viscous crimson that meet his lips would be akin to his first taste after his rebirth, ingrained into his mind. The ancient ritual, the curse she put on herself would seem like a blessing to him. It was addictive and vitalising. It would quench him, but like salt in water, it would only make him thirst for more very quickly.

"Thats enough, Strosius." She warned. She was well aware of the vice grip he had on her arm. Perhaps the ritual had worked a little too well, he was devouring the blood ravenously. The assassin was always prepared. Weilding the force, she drew upon its energy into electricity, the short burst of power and lightning emitted through the arm he latched onto, where his face was unguarded.

 

[Darth Strosius]

The agony of waiting had been well worth it. A sound somewhere between a hum and a growl escaped him as Darth Strosius sated his thirst from her wrist, drinking his fill and then some. It was almost addictive, each gulp being more hurried than the last as he sought to fill his senses with nothing but the taste of her vein. A task that he almost succeeded in until she spoke up and interrupted his feeding session. Not that he could be dissuaded by simple words of course, he simply tightened his grip on her arm and kept drinking.

A sudden shock finally forced him to pull away, a little surprised yelp leaving him as his hand shot up to cover his now slightly scorched mouth. The unseen gaze of the Sith Lord flickered back to mysterious woman and narrowed into a vengeful glare, his other hand twitching as if to reach for his weapon, but after a moment he sighed and swiftly reattached the bottom portion of his mask. "My apologies Lady Iphelia, I'm usually more composed." It was halfhearted of course, simply a way for him to recover his composure as he straightened up once more.

"Now...what was it you wanted again?" Something about an artifact, his mind was somewhat foggy at the moment.

Hykátiis of Tsis'Raki